


Color Me Red

by happyisahabit, L0chn3ss



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Akagami no Shirayuki-Hime AU, Alternate Universe, Assassin Black Star, F/M, Minor Violence, Red-Haired Maka, Slow Burn, akagami no shirayuki-hime spoilers, kidnapping of main character, mastar, minor character death pre-story, multichapter fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 11:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15217853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyisahabit/pseuds/happyisahabit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/L0chn3ss/pseuds/L0chn3ss
Summary: BlackStar, former assassin and self-appointed page to the Prince of Wisteria, finds himself enamored with the new Pharmacist of the Royal Court in-training, Maka, and her lovely red hair. After his failed assassination attempt, he becomes her (again) self-appointed protector… mainly from herself as she works to make the royal castle her new home. Together, they come to realize that maybe their meeting was the work of fate. Akagami No Shirayuki-Hime AU.





	1. Green is the color of...

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Color Me Red Artwork](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/396338) by Happyisahabit. 



> I love joining Reverb from the bottom of my heart because it gives me the chance to work with so many generous and incredible people. For 2018, I had the pleasure of working with my ace buddy and partner in crime Happyisahabit. We're here to present to you "Color Me Red," a MaStar Reverb!

**Chapter 1:** Green is the color of rebirth, of new beginnings

 _You appear at the gate of a garden._  
_Before you, as far as your eyes can see,_  
_is the wondrous abundance of green._  
_And in that green, you see splashes of new life,_  
_the growth of new beginnings._  
_Careful, but eager,_ _  
_ you stay to witness your own rebirth.

She took careful steps on her way back down the stairs. Her arms could barely grasp the railing and her legs wanted to give out at any moment. A few hours of lugging up her belongings to the dormitories, and she was completely over materialistic goods. Each box made her grumble and think to herself: was it really worth it?

Of course it was, she’d answer with resignation. To make her new home feel more like herself, she absolutely wanted whatever few belongings she had left with her. Born in the mountains and raised cities away, Maka had traveled far to get to where she was. She was a fighter from the start, someone who was never given their good fortune, who always had to work for whatever rewards she could earn.

The Kingdom of Clarines was a large and successful country, one whose throne had recently exchanged hands from father to son. Despite having the youngest king in centuries, Clarines had never been more successful. Its cities became beacons of light and innovation, and there was an overhaul of corrupt politicians who were brought into the public eye, exposed for who they were.

In the midst of the change, Maka sold her small shop and rented out her home, using her savings to travel to the capital where her parents met long before she was conceived. In her little town secluded in the woods at the edge of the country, she felt that her growth became stagnant. There was only so much more she could gain from staying in that place, and so she left for the place where the best pharmacists were trained: the royal castle.

After being given a temporary room during her application process, and after _crushing_ her entry exam, Maka was given the job and a more permanent dormitory. Though after being told that she was responsible for moving her belongings from storage, she decided that it would be her most difficult challenge yet.

Like the rest of the castle, the open-air corridor was surrounded by lush grass and flower beds hung from well tended baskets. Small puddles from watering them spotted the floor, and Maka struggled to remember to look where she was going while lost in her own thoughts. She was never the best at meticulous labor, but the sooner she could finish, the faster she became free.

There was only one more box to handle, she assured herself. Only one more trip that she needed to take in order to begin her new journey.

As she walked down to the storage wing, a part of her wished that there was a less conspicuous pathway to her room, one preferably just as short and but a little more hidden from the rest of the castle. Maka slowly became an expert of navigating the immediate area, but the more she went back and forth, the more attention she felt following after her.

It began with a few whispers behind covered mouths and averted eyes, then morphed into openly critical staff and pointing in her direction. The talking, she could care less of, but the rumors that she knew were spreading deeper into the castle were her worries.

Though she could pretend that it was because she was a new face amongst the staff, the fact remained that they were staring at her, or rather, her long red hair.

She never made an effort to hide the color, and how could she? It was a brilliant shade and so very clearly seen-- there was no point. Instead, she tied them up into pigtails, framing her face and keeping it from bothering her neck during her more relaxed hours. While she worked, she kept it braided in a fishtail hung on her back to keep the ends from dipping into fine powders and becoming a hazard.

Twirling one of the ends in circles around her finger, she felt more prideful of her hair than usual. If the palace go-ers were going to keep watching her, perhaps later, she’d give them a show.

Successfully arriving, Maka squatted down and pulled the final box closer, testing the weight and cursing at her lack of foresight. She saved the heaviest box for last, and as unfortunate as it was, Maka truly did need all of the notes and journals that she’d accumulated across the years, if not for their content, then for their sentimental value. Most of them were gifts from her community, who believed in her and who sent her on her way to the castle, and a larger chunk of the books were given to her by her late grandparents, her only family who remembered her passion and supported her wholeheartedly before their inevitable passing.

Gathered from odd times and even questionable sources, Maka found that the contents also saved her on multiple fronts. Old wives tales and accounts from a dying generation were a bountiful treasure, at least, once those cryptic messages were figured out. It was a task that Maka felt she could never finish in her own life time, but one that she wanted to trouble herself with.

Drink apple juice to help with diarrhea. Rub turmeric on skin to reduce scarring. Aloe makes a healthy soup. And don’t ever forget: never let someone else plant your parsley.

But reciting these tibbits was a mistake-- rather, not paying attention to where she walked was a mistake. On her way to her room, past the sheds and into the corridor, she remembered too late that the ground was covered in water. She slipped too quickly to regain control, and Maka felt her body betray her, pulled backwards by gravity and the weight that she carried.

Though not soundless, her landing was softer than she expected, soft but _firm_. Strangely enough, she still felt like she was floating, like her mind hadn’t registered the fall. Box still in her hands, she adjusted it until she felt the surface under her shift.

It was no ground at all. Instead, it was a young man who was under her, supporting her.

They locked eyes for the briefest second, his looking down at her with the ghost of worry while she had enough time to register her embarrassment. She was too vulnerable in her position, too exposed.

Maka pulled away before she could get another good look at his face, thanking him roughly for his rescue. Not hearing an answer, she looked back behind her shoulder to see that there was no one there.

Strange guy, she shrugged, resuming her last trip to her new dormitory. She hoped that not everyone she was going to meet would be the same way.

Perhaps later she will give her new supervisors a quick visit, but only after a very long nap.

[Audio podfic reading by Fynneyseas found here.](http://l0chn3ss.tumblr.com/post/175687563915/color-me-red-a-mastar-reverb-2018)


	2. Silver is the color of...

**Chapter 2:** Silver is the color of resolve, of progress

_ Shatter the mirror you call the gateway to your soul.  _ __  
_ Forget your fear and release your distinguished lineage.  _ __  
_ Your hope grows  _ __  
_ as the cold steel in your eyes hardens.  _ __  
_ You try to see yourself as others see you,  _ __  
_ and beyond that.  _ _  
_ __ The silver-tongued devil holds no power where you walk.

He didn't think he'd be meeting that girl again so soon. 

It was early morning in Clarines. The sun was barely making its appearance, but Black Star had been awake for hours. He adjusted his weight on the branch, allowing himself to shiver against the early chill.

He regretted not insisting on a room in the castle; his benefactor would have had the means to acquire it. But even if he was given one, he didn’t know whether he would’ve taken it or not.

There was a lingering feeling of awkwardness that he just couldn’t shake when he walked through the corridors, like his era was over. It’d been years since he’d been there or even stepped foot in the country. Instead of continuing his life in Tarbarun-- if he could call it that-- he ran to Clarines, metaphoric tail between his thighs. Some people believed he was dead, and others speculated that he settled down with a new family.

The truth was far from it. He  simply didn’t want his line of work anymore, performing high risk tasks and putting his life in danger for a quick coin.

Who knew that his first day in the area and his last job would be to scare a poor young woman and to prevent her from staying in the castle?

Black Star flashed one of his throwing knives, the rays catching on the edge. His reflection in the metal was one of pity. It was clear that he didn’t want to be there in the castle, doing what he called the most pointless and petty job he’d ever been assigned. 

In all honesty, for such a  _ simple _ job, he was getting paid too generously. Who was this person, and why was there such a heavy price on her head?

His curiosity piqued; he was never good at keeping his nose out of other people’s business.

While tailing her for the last few days, he found that his target, Maka, was nothing more than a regular person. With wide eyes and lithe body, she struggled to carry heavy materials and talked to herself when she was alone. She attracted unwanted attention by just being in the room, and how could she not-- her hair was red, like the traitorous knight who abandoned his kingdom so long ago. Never loved and in a place filled with her parent’s enemies, it was downright cruel to hunt her like livestock.

The severity of the action didn’t meet the cause.

Just yesterday, he was sure that she had seen him. He stood at the front of the gate to the castle and told the guards that he had a royal decree from the Young Prince himself. Reading the document that he forged, seeing the confusion on the guards’ faces, he knew that she’d already befriended them well enough to allow her in anyway.

He left them with one more warning to follow their job, but knew that soon, they would check with their lead to verify its authenticity. Already feeling like he’d failed, he turned to exit, only to see a flash of red behind the columns closest to the entrance. He flashed a smile, and he vanished for the night.

Once the sun was fully detached from the horizon, Black Star jumped from the tree top and made his way to the young woman’s dormitory. She got up just barely before the sun did to prepare food for the day, he remembered. She should’ve just barely been leaving her room then.

He found her half-way between the library and the eastern wing, clutching a clipboard and a few papers already in her arms.

Drawing a borrowed bow, he tied a note to the shaft of an arrow, aimed, and fired. It hit its mark, planting itself into the wall beside Maka’s head. She fell over in shock and dropped all of her belongings in a clatter.

Black Star hid himself behind a bush quickly, spying as she shakily checked the paper attached. He knew the contents read, “Red-haired woman, do not take another step forward. Leave,” and he hoped that she would be scared enough with just that threat.

However, he watched from behind as she picked herself up, brushing off her skirt with the paper in hand. She crumpled it up and threw it aside, leaving it with the arrow on the side of the wall as she continued down the corridor, undeterred.

It happened as quickly as he fired it; Black Star was left wondering if he did it at all. Shocked, he went to report to his benefactor.

The woman was brave, if not stupid. 

She intrigued him.

In the later parts of the afternoon, there was a confrontation by the young prince who found the message. Strangely enough, he knew exactly who it was and caught Black Star in the middle of the meeting with the nobleman. A few quick words were all that he needed to get his point across.

Maka was someone who he trusted, who he found to be more than worthy to stay despite her family’s history.

He nodded to Black Star and told him that there was no need for his services anymore. Once the noble man left the two alone, Black Star was able to greet the young prince familiarly.

They cheekily struck a deal, and off Black Star went to find Maka again.

She still hadn’t noticed his arrival so he made a little effort to make some noise. With some exaggerated rustling, she finally looked behind her, jumping at the sight of him.

“Woah,” he put his hands up. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Maka didn’t answer him, but her accusing eyes followed him as he inched closer.

“Just kidding,” he chuckled, bending low. “That was a bad introduction, huh. I’m the young prince’s attendant now, but don’t ask how it happened. It just did.”

“You… were the same person…”

Black Star hummed. “Oh?”

“The one who caught me before... as I was moving in.”

He blinked. “You know, I was also the person who shot that arrow at you. And who you saw at the gates. And who was paid by a noble to get rid of you.”

“I see.”

“But I won’t do that again. It was only a job.”

“A job,” she repeated slowly, deliberately. “What kind?”

“It doesn’t really concern you.”

Maka gave a look. “It was about me. I think that makes it  _ my  _ business.”

“Well, I’m at your service now!” he bowed. “Your protector from all who try to harm you.”

“I don’t need one.”

“Is it because you’re afraid of me?”

“No,” she said plainly. “You’ve saved me before, so why would I be? Don’t be weird.” Turning away from him, she said her farewells to him, as if her business was finished.

“Hold on, don’t you want to know who wanted you gone?” Black Star called out to her.

That at least caught her attention. He smirked as she stomped up to him and demanded a name. Instead of giving it to her immediately, he dangled it in front of her and used it as a bargaining chip-- the name for her acceptance. He was to be her new bodyguard; no buts.

“I told you, I don’t need one!”

“Do you want his name or not?”

She simmered for a bit before giving into him. “Fine.”

“Black Star.”

“I don’t know him--”

“That’s not who it was, that’s  _ me _ ,” he snickered, laughing more loudly as he endured her temper.

She was far more brave than any woman he’d ever met.

Once he gave her what she wanted, her eyes hardened and she dropped her errands. For the first time that day, she beckoned him to follow her and took a sharp left to confront her enemies. 

Black Star tailed her in amusement.


	3. Crystal is the color of...

**Chapter 3:** Crystal is the color of reflection, of intention

_As imperfect and jagged as crystal can be,_   
_it can never take away from a real gem's worth._   
_Though “clear,” colorless yet colorful,_   
_it remains strong for itself._   
_It stays true to its beliefs, its intentions,_   
_ever transparent in its resolve._   
_As any other precious stone,_   
_it can be broken, molded, and changed;_   
_but in the end, the result is clear._ _  
Now, if only some of that light could be refracted your way._

Maka entered the pharmacists’ office with Black Star trailing behind her. To her surprise, he had made it through an entire week of following her around without ever meeting her superiors. That needed to change, Maka thought, especially if he was planning to stick around.

“Over here,” she said to him, gesturing into another room to the side. “Past this point, only authorized personnel can enter so I’m not sure--”

“As the young prince’s page, I’m allowed anywhere that he is,” Black Star grinned.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

Regardless of if he was permitted or not, he brushed past her through the open doors without a care and despite her protests. As Maka found out earlier in the week, Black Star was as impatient as he was cocky, his first impression as tame as it got. She struggled to keep his ego in check, but in all honesty, she hoped that his encounter with her coworkers would humble him.

In character and without looking where he was walking, he collided right into a child who was running past the door, causing their head to bump into his stomach and then fall from the impact.

He yelped in surprise but was too late to catch them, watching them land on their bottom with a squeak. Everything went still for a moment as the shock registered, and she quickly moved passed him to get to the kid.

“Sorry for him, boss.” Maka squatted down until she was eye-level. “He’s my new troublemaker.”

“Boss?” Black Star blinked incredulously.

“Damn right, I am!” the little voice called out, tone not matching the squeak that came from her mouth. She rubbed her forehead where he hit her, rolling on her knees and clutching the edge of her dress with a small fist. “I should have you thrown out!”

Before Black Star could properly respond to that outburst, another child seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“You fell, Angie,” they said softy, tugging at the sleeves of the girl in an effort to help her up.

“No thanks to this idiot here.” She shot Black Star a look of disdain.

“Listen, if you hadn’t been in the way--”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” she exclaimed indignantly.

Raising her hands in a surrendering fashion, Maka said, “It’s no one’s fault,” before she was quickly interrupted by the girl.

“What are you even doing here?” she targeted at Black Star. “Authorized people _only_. Did you read the sign on the door? Can you read at all? I’m twelve and I learned how to read!”

Sputtering, he replied in a frazzled voice, “I-- I can read!”

“Then do you have a cut?” She paused to wait for his head shake before continuing. “An owie? Are you hurt? Sick? You got someone who is? No? Then you have no business here! _Get out!”_ she screeched, stomping up to him and giving him a resounding kick to his nether regions.

Black Star’s eyes went glassy, and he bent over and dropped like a sack of potatoes, shaking. No scream managed to escape from his mouth, but his hands flew quickly to his crotch, face turning red before he buried it into the carpet below him.

It was time for Maka to step in again.

“Now now,” she began, “he’s actually here to meet you all.”

If the girl were a puppy, her ears would’ve perked up. “Meet me?”

“Yes, you, and Feir, and Lila, and Kilik.”

“I’ll go get him,” the other child said to no one in particular, sneaking away.

“Oh.” The girl flipped her short hair over her shoulder and returned to Black Star, looking down at him directly and sizing him up as he struggled to even glance in her direction. “I’m Angela Leon! The Chameleon Witch of Clarines! You can’t have an autograph but you can bask in my presence!”

It didn’t seem like Black Star heard her, so she repeated it again with the same amount of conviction. It took that second time for Maka to realize how utterly _beat_ he was, so she stopped Angie from delivering her introduction a third time and instead helped Black Star to a lounge chair nearby. She patted his hand in pity until he regained awareness.

Only after his spirit re-entered his body did Angie grace him with the third round of the same statement, this time with a little less power than the others.

Maka further explained, “They--”

“Who’s they?” Black Star said weakly.

“ _They_ call her the chameleon witch because of how compatible and flexible she is with different medicines and procedures. There’s really no one else who is specialized in no specialty, so Angie is a kid genius,” Maka nodded to Black Star, checking in with Angie every so often for confirmation.

“You got that right! Good minion,” she patted Maka on the leg-- the highest she could reach without spending so much effort.

“So,” Black Star began carefully, “You’re the boss?”

“Y--”

“That would be me, not that little scamp,” said a new voice.

Maka laughed when Black Star jumped in his seat, following the voice to its owner, a young man in a white coat and black framed glasses. Behind him were two similar looking children who followed after him like ducklings, one a little more shy than the other.

“Ah, you were free after all,” Maka teased.

“Well, if Lila is the only asking me to come, then I can’t refuse her.”

The young child clinging to the young man’s left side was the same as before, a short girl who peeked behind his leg to look over at Black Star. She nodded at the sound of her name but didn’t come out from her hiding place.

“Did you say ‘Hi’ yet, Lila?” he asked, patting her back.

“Hi,” she said, sinking deeper behind the young man.

“What’s your name?” he urged once more, providing it only when she proved to be too timid to say herself. “This is Lila, and her brother is--”

“I’m Feir,” the second kid said, eyes wide and curious, already approaching Black Star in his seat. “Lila is my twin. Uncle Kilik is taking care of me and her.”

Black Star looked to their caretaker questioningly, “And I assume that’s you?”

“Correct, though they’re also my aids.”

“Is it safe for them to be around so many… poisons?”

Kilik hummed, “To put it simply, their mother-- my sister-- is currently filling in for the head researcher at Lyrias, so I think it’ll be fine.”

“O-oh.”

“Regardless, welcome to the Pharmacists’ office, Black Star. I heard you were looking after Maka as she trains. She’s mentoring with Angie,” Kilik nodded towards pharmacist, “and I’m the head of our department. The Young Prince already sent notice, so where Maka’s allowed, you are, too.”

“Ha,” Black Star said in stage whisper to Maka. “Even better.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t fight him. Instead, she could see that he was far out of his comfort zone, overwhelmed with the amount of new faces and the nature of their greetings. But if he were sticking around like he told her before, he may as well get to know the people who Maka would be working closest with. He didn’t look like he knew how to start or introduce himself, so Maka decided to do it for him.

Gesturing to him, Maka cleared her throat and announced, “May I introduce, Black Star, ex-assassin, page of the young prince.”

He stood up and added tentatively, “And appointed bodyguard of Maka, Court Pharmacist In-training.”

“ _Self-appointed_ bodyguard,” Maka sniffed. “ _And!_ Self-appointed page!”

Despite smiling at her ire, he seemed worried from his introduction. He didn’t know what to say after that, but instead of letting the silence settle in the room, Lila came closer to him.

In the way she did, she asked innocently, “Do you need an ointment for your penis? It’s maybe swollen.”

As though the ice had broken, Black Star turned pink and dropped his formal facade. He looked to Kilik before responding, “It-- _I’m fine._ ”

“Are you sure?” Kilik said, concerned.

“Really-- I’m fine.”

Lila patted his lap. “Angie’s kicks hurt. Kilik knows, too.”

“No seriously, it doesn’t hurt anymore. My dick is good.”

Angie snorted, “We aren’t talking about a ‘Richard,’ you illiterate.”

Black Star snapped, “I know that--”

“You kicked an assassin, Angie.”

“He’s an ex-assassin because he sucks at his job, then.”

“I don’t--”

“Look!” Feir laughed, pointing at Black Star. “He’s as red as Maka’s hair!”

Looking over to check, Maka saw that there was some truth to the statement. What little they were able to see of Black Star’s face was completely flushed, and he turned redder at the attention that he gathered. What a poor guy.

“At least I’m not some five year old running around the office like a hazard!”

“I’m twelve, not deaf!” Angie screeched, swinging her leg back for another kick before anyone else could stop her.


End file.
